


Kālā paʻa

by Calacious



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fine line between passion and hate, Kissing in anger, Kono's point of view
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-12
Updated: 2012-02-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 22:53:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4583229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calacious/pseuds/Calacious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chin had warned her that love and hate were two faces of the same coin when she was a little girl. Too bad she hadn't really listened to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kālā paʻa

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The characters of this work of fiction do not belong to me, they belong to CBS; no profit (monetary or otherwise) is being made in the writing of this.
> 
> A/N: One of the other ECTers suggested this pairing when I mentioned that I'd like to try writing a femslash story, and at first, I balked at the thought of it (I'm not a fan of Lori), but then I sat down and wrote it (never say never...I've learned that, if nothing else, in my writing). The translation of the Hawaiian saying is from Waikiki Community Center dot org. The pidgin is based on what I hear on an almost daily basis, that, and my roommate's help.
> 
> Wrote this awhile back, and realized that I had not posted this here...this is not what I typically write.

Chin had warned her that love and hate were two faces of the same coin when she was a little girl. At the time she'd hated Benicio Alvarez – he was annoying, always pulling her hair and laughing at her, and he'd make up ridiculous rumors about her, sharing these stories with her friends, some of whom believed him.

Chin had tried to explain that Benicio's actions were his awkward way of communicating that he liked her. She didn't buy it. If he liked her, he'd come out and say it, like Michael or Mana. Instead, the eleven year old had made her school life miserable until she'd put a stop to it with a well-placed fist. She'd been suspended for a day; he'd sported two black eyes, to go along with his broken nose, for the rest of the month. In Kono's opinion, it had served him right. He'd left her alone after that.

"Love and hate, cuz, der like opposite sides of da same coin – heads and tails. Dey got de same maker, yeah? But you flip 'em over and watch out," Chin had said, slapping his hands together to emphasize his point, "you get yourself some sparks. Can be good, ya know?"

Kono had given him a skeptical look and shook her head, her ponytail bobbing with the action. "Benny was a jerk, but I showed him alright."

She'd shrugged off her cousin's well-meant advice and rolled her eyes as he lectured her about the dangers of getting into fights at school. He was going to be a cop, what did he know about the difficulties of being a middle school girl and dealing with all of the drama? Not a damn thing, that's what.

Turning her head, eyeing the blonde hair haloed on her pillow, Chin's words came back to her in surround sound, echoing – "Aloha mai no, aloha aku; o ka huhu ka mea e ola 'ole ai." (When love is given, love should be returned. Anger is the thing that gives no life.)

There was a touch of dry irony as she recalled the way he'd chuckled and then ruffled her hair, as if she was three instead of eleven.

Smiling ruefully, she shook her head and let the tendrils of flaxen hair slip like thin strands of silk through her fingers. Idly, she watched them fall onto her pillow like buttery flower petals.

Her heart skipped a beat as her fingertips, sticky with dried cum, brushed the fine downy hair of her drowsing lover's forearm, leaving chicken skin in their wake. Kono shivered, relishing in the aftermath of what had been a very eye-opening, earth-shattering (borrowing a little of her middle school self's flair for the dramatic) night of lovemaking.

Had she understood what it was that her cousin had been trying to say to her all those many years ago, she would have paid closer attention, and acted on what angered her well before now, giving into that lava – hot liquid magma – spilling over into her gut. It had spurred her into action last night, though, made her into the tiger in bed that men were always envisioning her to be.

Longing to taste, Kono's tongue darted out, licking lips kiss-swollen and parted, quiet and stilled, inviting in sleep. Vulnerable was not a word suited to either of them, but as Kono's gaze fell upon the slender neck of her bed partner, she couldn't help but note the slight curve of the neck, how it sloped and angled from the collarbone to an unencumbered, save for a few strands of hair, expanse of alabaster skin.

They made for a striking pair: a contrast of dark, sun-bronzed skin juxtaposed with porcelain white that seemed to shy away from the sun, only managing to capture it in blistering red from time to time. Not that Kono had been watching her partner in such a fashion prior to last night, or taken note of these particular peculiarities until now.

She ran her tongue over her paramour's lips, sneaking it in, unguarded, past teeth and tongue, marveling in the foreign taste and feel – berries and vanilla, soft, slick and warm. It was unlike other lovers she'd been with, and yet there was something familiar, soothing, about the foreign landscape.

"Mmm," lips parted, tongues grappled, teeth clashed and clacked.

Blue eyes, identical sapphires, ensconced in dark lashes, met brown eyes ablaze and glittering with lust. Sleep warred with desire. Hands and fingers, slumber-heavy and awkward, sought for purchase, something to hold onto – satiny bed sheets, too-thick comforter, slender shoulder – something to anchor the deepening kiss.

Anger and hatred had brought them to this disheveled state – arms and legs akimbo, a tangled mess sprawled within Kono's crumpled sheets. Anger and hatred had blurred together until one was indistinguishable from the other. Their latest case had put them on opposite sides, solidified their mutual dislike for each other and made them fast enemies.

They'd fought; fists and feet engaging in a volatile exchange of well-aimed punches and kicks –each expertly parried by the other. Kono couldn't remember when they'd switched from trying to kill each other to kissing.

One second her fist was poised to break Lori's nose as she had Benecio's over a decade ago, and the next, she was fisting a handful of Lori's hair, crushing their mouths together in a fierce, bruising kiss. Both women pushed away from the kiss, panting and glaring like two caged she-lions closing in on the same kill.

Kono didn't even know how they'd made it to her house in one piece. Like two horny teenagers going at it for the first time, they were a mess of hands reaching up beneath blouses, searching for and cupping breasts – firm, soft and pert. Fingers probed and touched, tweaking and tantalizing nipples, searching for just the right amount of pressure. Wet and aching to be touched, longing for penetration, they barely made it into the driveway, Lori's fingers fumbled with the button of Kono's jeans, Kono's jimmying the clasp securing Lori's bra.

They'd stumbled into the bedroom, past Kono's less than immaculate living room (it had been a long case with many a late night and no free time on the weekends) and fallen onto the bed, pulling at each other's clothes, understanding, for the first time what frustrated men so much about their accessories.

Kono placed two fingers into her mouth, sucking, making them warm and wet with her spit, even as she helped Lori out of jeans that were too damn tight. Panties, white, lacy things that Kono allowed herself a moment to envy, were tossed to the floor, and then Lori was guiding her fingers, talking to her, even as her mouth – teeth, tongue, lips – caressed her skin, laving and marking her.

"Yes," it was breathed out like a prayer.

Mouths, breasts, sweat-slick skin – flawless brown apposed with freckled white. Held breath, the inevitable fight for control, and then hips jerking, fingers searching and kneading, pumping, tongues jarring. An amalgamation of bodies and souls. Satiation attained through an age-old art.

Spent, panting, they'd lingered in each other's arms with Kono's knee pressed firmly between Lori's legs. Her fingers trailed a blazing path along skin, slippery and warm to the touch, her black hair stuck to Lori's sweat-glistened chest. Content with her head nestled between two of the most perfect breasts she'd ever set eyes on, Kono had slept to awaken only a few hours later, hungering for more.

Chin's words came to her then, in the dark watches of the night as she regarded Lori sleeping. There was a small smile of serenity playing about the seasoned profiler's lips. Kono hadn't seen such happiness grace the young woman's features since Lori had started working with Five-0. It almost stayed Kono's hand, but she wanted to put more than a smile of contentment on the other woman's lips.

Chin was wrong about one thing, Kono thought as Lori woke, her blue eyes filled with the same hunger that Kono felt, anger does give life.


End file.
